


Priceless

by Nutella0Mutt



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dark Thoughts, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Trauma, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Healing, Healthy Marriage, Healthy Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, Non-Explicit Sex, Past Torture, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, SMUT IN CHAPTER 3!!!!!!, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Things Get Better, Viren is fucking evil wtf
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21556483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutella0Mutt/pseuds/Nutella0Mutt
Summary: Runaan and Rayla’s parents are rescued from their coin imprisonment. The original plan was to stay a few weeks at the Storm Spire and help mobilize forces.The recently-freed, bruised and beaten Runaan, who has failed his mission, his people, and nearly succumbed to torture, just wants to go home.
Relationships: Runaan /Ethari, Runaan/Tinker | Necklace Elf (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 332





	1. Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A FIX-IT FIC that takes place hours after Season 3. I need Runaan and Ethari to reunite asap. Here's how I'm doing it. 
> 
> Step 1: Get freed from coin  
> Step 2: Get home (get laid ;P )  
> Step 3: Heal
> 
> The fastest canon-compliant way I can do it. I hope you enjoy this journey with me!

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

It if wasn’t for Rayla, Viren would still have them.  
If it wasn’t for Janai and her warriors from Lux Aurea, they would never have been found.   
If it wasn’t for the Zubeia, the Dragon Queen, they would never breathe again.

But the true hero was Lieutenant Gren.

A massive search of the entire battlefield. That’s what saved them in the end.

An unassuming bloodied pouch left laying on the ground, discovered by a nameless soldier. Little did she know what priceless bounty it contained. She reported the findings to General Amaya, but it was Gren whose face went pale as he yanked it out of her hands and opened it.

All present heard the jingling of coins.

“Oh, I hope this isn’t Viren’s. Gods above, it is! General, get Sky Mage Ibis! We need him immediately. Better get Rayla, too! These are her people.”

With shaking hands, Gren carefully tips three coins out into his palm. The lieutenant’s face turns anguished and sickly, and his hands shake. 

There are gasps around him, as the people present begin to recognize the fearful faces on the coins, and even more horrified exclamations as the elves in the coins cry and shake.

An enchanted prison.

Shouts and curses ring out in the cave of the Storm Spire. Angry yells of shock and disgust are drowned out by Rayla’s cries of pain. 

Someone jerks Gren and he nearly drops the coins. It’s Sky Mage Ibis, yanking the lieutenant along.

“Come, immediately, to the Dragon Queen. Only she has the power to release them. Let us hope it’s not too late!”

Gren is numb as he’s quickly led to the inner chamber. There’s a quick and angry conversation between the mage and the queen, and then he’s asked to carefully place the coins in a conjured bowl of some glowing magical potion. He feels dizzy as he gently places them into the liquid, feeling guilty, but the expressions of terror don’t change at the immersion. The metal eyes blink and cry and scream, but don’t otherwise react. 

The lieutenant stumbles away from the table and vomits into the cold stone floor. He mumbles some half-excuse and drags himself up the steps to the heavy chamber door. He needs out.

It’s chaos out on the other side. Callum is holding a despairing Rayla, and Soren holds his face in his hands. Little King Ezran holds Bait and sobs. General Amaya comes to Gren’s side immediately at his return, bringing a concerned Janai. 

His dear friend is angry and worried, asking after his health and if he had been poorly-treated by Viren as well. Her hands stop signing once she takes stock of his stunned state, and instead roam over his body, checking his arms and neck and face. 

He shakes his head, but that’s all he can muster. 

How could Viren be so cruel?

And then guilt seeps into his bones. 

He had heard the screams from the captured prisoner Runaan. Gren himself had been freed after the dark mage’s arrest for treason, but he had been too damned relieved to bother looking into the other prisoner’s well-being. If he had said something, maybe the elf could have been discovered sooner. 

Magic swells from behind the doors, a massive amount of energy, and Gren feels the hairs on his arms rise.

“Fuck,” he says lowly, the uncharacteristic curse shocking the people around him into stillness. 

Legs suddenly heavy, he falls to his knees and lowers his head, hands clenched on his thighs. Just hours ago they won the battle and celebrated their victory. The dragon prince was alive and finally reunited with his mother. But at the moment it still feels like Viren has won. His evilness spreading and infecting all he touches. 

The doors bang open, ringing like a gunshot in the silence, and Ibis runs out. 

“They’re saved,” he says weakly, his markings dim and pale. “Queen Zubeia and I have saved them. Rayla, your kin are alive.”

The small Moonshadow elf stumbles to her feet and runs through the doors, crying for her parents. Ibis tries for a weak smile, but grimaces. 

“They are very weak and need immediate food and care. There’s an adjoining chamber they can rest in. Please, help in my stead. I must recover. ”

General Amaya and Janai catch him as he collapses, and Soren jumps to his feet immediately. 

“I need healers inside now! Baker, please prepare a meal. I need some others to prepare the chambers. We’ll move them once they are stable. Get the mage somewhere comfortable.”

People get to work right away, chattering and hopeful, happy to busy themselves for a good cause. Little King Ezran comes to where Gren is slouched against a stone wall. He’s still crying, tears falling from his boyish face and falling onto a blue Bait clutched in his hands.

“T-thank you, Gren,” the king stutters. Then he shakes his head. “I can’t believe Viren’s this evil. Rayla thought her parents were dead. I will never let anything like this happen ever again.”

Callum comes over and hugs his brother. “And Runaan is her adopted father. Her family is finally together again. We just need to get them all back home to their village and Ethari. Gods, he’s going to be so happy to have everyone back together. He thought for sure everyone was dead.”

Gren clenches his eyes closed as deep anger settles over him. “Those were her parents?” He breathes deeply, holds it, then exhales harshly. He lifts a heavy hand and pats Ezran’s head, then Callum. “I’m just glad they found the pouch. I’m hopeless with this magic stuff, but I know miracles can happen. We just needed to find them, and I trusted someone around here could bring them back.”

Happy cries echo from the chambers now, and tearful smiles replace the despair. But determination hits heavy for everyone. Viren MUST be stopped. 

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

When Runaan opens his eyes and sees cold stone, he cries. He cries in relief, lifting weakened and pained hands to his face as sobs wrack his beaten body. He sees the stone and believes himself back in the dungeon, and he tearfully vows to do anything Viren wishes. Anything, to keep from being put back in that horrific prison. He begs and pleads and cries, mindless with despair, until finally warm arms bring him back into something near sobriety. 

_“Runaan, Runaan. Bonum est amicus ejus. Eam est tutum.”_

He looks up into warm brown and grey eyes. He looks into the faces of friends he believed dead.

No, they are dead. This was another trick by the evil man!

 _“No! Tu a me denuo, non avaritiam, malum hominis!”_ he shouts, and rips away from the embrace. He fists his hands into his hair and yanks. Maybe the pain will drive the illusion away. No, better to take this chance and end his life now before he can betray his people. Anything to keep safe from Viren’s vile ways. 

He lurches forward, spots a knife on the hip of someone nearby, and drives it into his chest. But where he expects to feel the cold bite of metal and welcoming pain, there’s nothing. He’s frozen. Spelled?

He looks up in shock. Then...keeps looking up. And up.

Dragon Queen Zubeia tilts her head as she looks down at him. A flick of her great tail and the magic freezing the knife in place sputters and dies. 

“Fear not, Assassin Leader Runaan. There is no evil magic here, except the residue still haunting your minds. I have freed you and your kin from the coins you were entrapped in. I even managed to save your arm, although I suggest you refrain from using it for a month or so. The muscles were nearly severed, to say nothing of the damage done to your veins. If it were anyone else the arm would be lost. I’ve put too much energy into keeping you alive, don’t go about undoing all my work already.”

Runaan manages to nod something of a thanks to the great queen, but his eyes are glued onto Rayla, where she is being tearfully held by her….parents. 

_“...C-carissimi mei. Tu vivit?”_

They nod, and Rayla weeps again, and Runaan weeps with her. 

They reach out welcoming hands, and offer tearful smiles. _“Nos liberati sumus. Salvus erit. Nos redeant in coniunctionem. Una.”_

The warm hands come again, and this time he falls into them gratefully. 

A dream. 

This must be a dream. His best, most dear friends alive. Rayla alive and reunited with them. Their family back together and whole. If only…

 _“Ethari?”_ he whispers. _“Amica mea?”_

“I saw him right before we arrived at the Storm Spire. He’s lonely, but fine. He misses you dearly. He thinks you’re…” She catches herself and trails off, but the message is clear.

Ethari believes him dead. 

Well, Runaan thought the same of himself just minutes ago. Worse than dead. Then he nearly made it a reality. 

He really has to get it together before he reunited with Ethari. He’s a mess, but he’s alive. 

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

"You're leaving already?"

It's the child king Ezran, of all people, that catches him as he’s packing his meager belongings at sundown a few moons later. His weapons and clothes are gone, but he's managed to borrow a few clothes, a sword, and some provisions.

The original plan was to stay a few weeks at the Storm Spire, recover, and then help organize the military and stabilize the political front. Normally, Runaan would jump at the chance to help set things straight from the bottom-up like this. Well, the old Runaan, anyway.

The recently-freed, bruised and beaten Runaan, who has failed his mission, his people, and nearly succumbed to torture, just wants to go home.

He managed to rest for 3 days before the itching to leave got too strong. He’s happy for Rayla’s parents, and she’ll be safe with them in the Dragon Queen’s lair. There’s no better place to be.

But Runaan has his own place he needs to go. A heart he needs to return.

He turns his head back to the humans, elves, and all manner of creatures bedding down for the night. 

The child king nods, despite Runaan’s silence. His eyes dart down to Runaan’s left arm, where it rests in a sling, but he says nothing about it.

“I understand. But I insist you take a mount. We set up a temporary stable at the base of the spire. Ride safely.”

Runaan bows to the child, lifts his pack with his right hand, and leaves. 

When he’s at the top of the stairs, the child king calls out one last time. 

“Be wary of Viren. He is out there still. Take care.”

Then the king returns to his people, his allies, and the Moonshadow elf blends into the night. 

He meets an unexpected friend in the stable at the base of the spire. 

“Lione? Papilionem? My lovely mount. What are you doing all the way out here?”

At the sound of her name, the sleek feathered moon mount chirps and purrs. Runaan feels his eyes water as he touches foreheads with his dear animal companion. They have been through so much together. Lione and her match were wedding gifts when he and Ethari were married. They had gone on many missions together, but Runaan preferred to keep her from the most dangerous ones. She was too precious to lose.

“Ah, _amica mea_ , where is your match Arietes? Is she somewhere here, too?”

Ethari must have loaned her to Rayla so they could quickly return the dragon prince home. Just one, or both? Runaan lifts his head from the moth pattern on Lione’s face to seek out the feathered deer, but Liona makes a mournful chirp.

Ah. 

Not good, then. She may be lost to them. He will be sure to give her a proper mourning when he returns. Ethari will be heartbroken. 

Thinking of his beloved spurs him into action. He carefully saddles Lione and mounts, finally feeling like things are falling back into place as his feet find the stirrups. 

And when they reach the quiet forest as the moon rises, heading in the direction of home, Runaan finally feels like he can breathe.

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

The path he plans will take him a week by mount, around the Midnight Desert, and will allow him to stick to the forests. Some of the tension in his shoulders loosens once he’s fully among the trees and shadows. Small creatures skitter from under brush and magical flowers blossom all around. The world is painfully vibrant. Runaan isn’t sure if the nature he sees is really as colorful and beautiful as it appears, or if it’s just a side-effect from his imprisonment. It’s like he can see life from an entirely new perspective. The primal energies all around sing to him and welcome him home. Has he ever taken time to stop and notice the beauty all around him before? He always was so focused on missions, and training. His beloved used to always tease him about his work-centered brain. 

Ethari. 

A pang in his heart. Just a week until he can see those golden eyes again. To caress his face, trace his markings, and run his fingers through the soft hair. To kiss those lips, and cherish his love. To hold him and never let him go. All Runaan wants to do is live with his beloved in their cozy home and never leave again. Surely, he’s earned the right?

Runaan sets an easy pace and rests often, tending to his body and Lione, and each night his body’s pains lighten, while his heart weighs heavy.

Has Ethari lost faith in him? Has he already moved on? Runaan is sure his flower has sunk. Rayla implied as much, that his mate thought him dead. Ethari’s brilliant enchantments may not have been warded against dark magic such as Viren’s. Thinking of that evil man sends a shudder down his body, so he quickly moves on. 

Will Ethari be happy to see him? Upset? Angry, even? Did the other elves in his village now hate him? Or will they rejoice? Has news yet spread of their victory at Storm Spire? Shit, maybe there was some benefit to staying with the others until news could be shared. Even a shadowhawk message could have gotten word to Ethari within a day. Runaan is just making him needlessly suffer in his rush to leave quickly.

Runaan halts Lione and dismounts with a stumble. He overbalances and bangs his injured arm into the moon mount’s bulk, and bites back a cry. He’ll either get a hero’s welcome or a ghost’s welcome, so there’s no point in worrying about it. As long as he gets a chance to explain himself to his husband, he’ll survive. 

There’s a stream close by, so Runaan leads his mount there for a rest. He’s nearly 3 nights away by now, at his current pace. He drinks and eats a quick lunch, and prepares to mount again when there’s a rustle in the bushes close by. 

Runaan freezes and his heart races. He’s armed, but severely weakened. Still, he should be a match for any normal threat. But if it’s Viren…

Cold fear, a previously unfamiliar feeling, settles over him, and Runaan feels his body lock up. 

He’s not going to get captured again. If it’s Viren in the bushes, Runaan will slit his own throat in a second. He will not go back to his imprisonment. He will not become a toy for Viren again. He will never let dark magic taint him. Should he just kill himself now, just to be safe? Viren has evil, unspeakable magic that might halt him where he stands, and make it impossible for him to end his own life. Or worse… the rumors of bringing one back from death. Even if he kills himself, he might never be free. Viren could violate him and fill his soul with black and make him a puppet slave to his will. 

Runaan’s grip tightens on the sword as cold sweat breaks out all over him. He’s shaking, trembling, and he so high-strung his wounded arm burns in agony. 

The rustling gets louder and Lione growls. 

Run? Or fight?

Could either even save him at this point?

Shit shit shit!

The thing bursts from the bushes and Runaan flinches, throwing himself backward in fear. It’s a massive gray creature, moaning and crying, running aimlessly and knocking into bushes and trees alike. 

“What on our precious good Terra is this?” Runaan asks, bewildered, as the strange long-legged creature runs around. It spins, and a long tail lashes out. Runaan trips and falls, catching himself on his bad arm and groaning. Lione is hissing and roaring, but sounds pained. Is she being attacked by the strange thing? Runaan pulls himself up and grabs his sword again, ready to defend Lione, but something stills him. The silhouette of the animals begins to make sense to him. 

It’s… a feathered deer, unrecognizable in its strange gray state. Its eyes are blank and it seems mindless. Runaan tentatively reaches out to sense if there’s some sort of enchantment on the poor beast, but it’s worse than that. It’s soulless. 

“Those damn Soulfang Serpents. Poor thing must have met a sad fate in the Midnight Desert. It’s okay, Lione,” he calls, but his moon mount keeps hissing painfully. Runaan narrows his eyes as he takes in the tack on the mount. The styling looks...familiar. 

Oh no.

“Arietes,” Runaan whispers. But the mount doesn’t hear him. Can’t hear him. She’s lost her soul.

Part of Runaan is grief-struck. His dear companion, souless and lost. She can’t be saved, and will meet an unpleasant death soon, either at her own hand or someone else’s. But the other part of him is angry. Rayla and her silly human companion were entrusted with these wonderful creatures by Ethari. How could she be so careless as to let Arietes get bitten? Why didn’t she go around the desert, like he taught her?

Runaan shakes his head. Ah, no, Rayla knows how important Lione and Arietes are to him and Ethari. And given the dire situation regarding the dragon prince, Ethari new how critical it was to reunite the prince with his mother as soon as possible. Arietes was likely a necessary sacrifice, as they all must make in in war. Leaving her to the damn serpents might have been the thing that saved them all. 

With a groan, Runaan drops his sword and clutches his arm. He is so lost. Mentally. He needs to spend a good week or so meditating so he can find his balance again. Maybe he’ll sit under a waterfall, or pray to the moon, and find his center once more. 

Another hiss, and Runaan turns his focus back to the present. He will have time to meditate once he’s back home. But he’s not going to just leave Arietes here. He’ll find a way to bring her back home, too, where he can end her suffering quickly and painlessly, and give her a proper funeral. 

He calms Lione and ties Arietes up behind her, explaining his intention to bring her to her final resting place at home. Lione is uncomfortable at first, but then seems to understand, and is gentle as she leads the feathered deer home. 

They quickly head out once everything is in order, and blessedly, the 3 days pass uneventfully. 

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 


	2. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here's the next little bit. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> So um, fair warning, Chapter 3, the next chapter, WILL HAVE NON-EXPLICIT SMUT! It will be a short chapter with the horny elf boys getting it on, but it won't have any important plot so feel free to skip it if you wish. It will be soft, healthy, good sex between happily married men (elves?). Then we will have the regularly scheduled healing in the 4th chapter!
> 
> But for now, here are Ethari and Runaan seeing each other again!

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

Seemingly in no time at all, he’s at the foot of the great tree that holds the gateway to his village. He carefully unties Arietes and leads her along the massive branches until he finds a spot where he can open the gateway around her. Lione is already prancing eagerly, ready to return home.

He holds his breath as the gate opens. Will he be met with open arms or weapons?

The shimmer of the illusion falling away, the glow of the moon, big and bright in the sky, and Runaan is overcome. He falls to his knees, covers his face with a hand, and cries. Elves turn to look at him in shock, and he must be quite a sight. A disheveled Moonshadow elf falling to his knees and sobbing among two mounts, one grey and zombified. Whispers and murmurs echo, along with the hiss of metal as weapons are drawn by nearby guards. Lione growls as they draw closer. And still, Runaan shamefully cries out in the open like a toddler.

“What on blessed Terra? What is happening?”

A voice like honey talks among the crowd, but Runaan hones in on it like an arrow. He sobs harder, aching with the familiarity of it. 

“Not sure, this strange guy appeared. We’re not sure if he’s attacking or not.”

“You can’t be serious, he sitting there crying. Oh for moon’s sake. Wait, is that Lione?”

The voice turns pained, shocked, and Runaan lifts his head to meet the golden ones of his beloved. 

_ “Aurum angelus,”  _ he whispers, voice hoarse, and reaches out a trembling hand. It’s his bound one, and damn it, he scrambles to switch hands, but by then his husband has already run forward, fallen to his knees, and embraced him tightly. His golden angel is finally in his arms.

_ “Unam dilectam. Argentum bellator. Amica mea.” _ Ethari grips him tight, buries his face in Runaan’s neck, and chants those sweet words over and over. Beloved one. My silver warrior. My love. 

Each word he says fills Runaan’s heart until it’s near bursting. And suddenly, a hug isn’t enough. He needs to touch, to feel, to see. Runaan pulls back, and looks over his husband’s face. He takes in the tearful golden orbs, the happy, pained smile, the hiccuping breaths. He notices the paleness of his face, the circles under his eyes, his thin body. He yanks his hand out of the damned sling, and lifts both shaking hands to cup Ethari’s face. The other elf sighs, closes his eyes, and tilts his head to welcome the touch. Runaan gently traces the purple marks under his eyes, rubs a pointed ear, thumbs his soft lips, and begins kissing his forehead, his cheek, his nose, everything. 

Ethari laughs wetly, then giggles, hands coming to press against Runaan’s and keep them in place. They are idiots. Two idiots in love, tearfully reuniting on the ground in the middle of the square. Now that he’s not a threat, elves walk around him, confused but too polite to stare. Some kind soul takes cares of the mounts, and the market place begins to empty of people as the night gives way to dawn, and it’s only when the sun begins to shine down on them that they stop. 

Ethari groans as he stands up, then offers a hand to Runaan. Unthinkingly, Runaan accepts with his left hand, and the sharp flood of pain brings him back to his knees with a soft cry.

“Oh, Runaan my beloved. You are injured!”

Ethari crouches and lifts him with ease, and while normally Runaan would be flustered and embarrassed at being carried in such a way, now he’s just thankful.

“It’s just a minor thing, my heart. It’ll heal.”

“Moon above, if you’re actually acknowledging it, it’s life threatening, isn’t it?” Ethari chides, and Runaan gives an uncharacteristic shrug, which only serves to hurt himself further. 

“We’re almost home, my sweet, please try to refrain from injuring yourself more.”

“But I’m alive. With two arms or none, as long as I could return here to you, I could bear it all. You are all that matters to me.”

Runaan had thought he had cried all the tears he had left, but upon entering their cozy house, Runaan breaks down again. It looks exactly as it did the day he left. The toolbox in the corner, the candles in the windows, his desk clean and organized, and Ethari’s workbench covered with papers and quills and little odds and ends. And the gorgeous gleaming weapons that line the wall over the work area. Ethari tries to place Runaan on the bed, but he shakes his head. 

“I’m filthy. I refuse to soil the bedding like this. Please, help me clean first.”

“Of course, my love.”

It’s long, arduous work. He’s stripped, washed, bandaged, and redressed. His hair is cleaned and brushed, his arm once again put in a sling, he’s given a small meal, and finally, finally, he feels little pieces of himself falling back into place. 

Ethari caresses his face, but frowns as he lifts hands up and traces the broken edge of Runaan’s left horn. 

“My precious,” he whispers. “I know I’m not as strong, or smart, or skilled as you, but seeing you like this makes me want to rip that evil man’s heart from his chest. How dare he treat you like this.”

The harsh words make Runaan shudder, and he closes his eyes and bows his head. 

“No, my heart. I won’t let you get anywhere near him. Keep your mind pure and good, and say no such things. There is enough darkness and vengeance in this world, already.”

Ethari sighs and nods his head in agreement, and Runaan feels his body suddenly relax from all the tension. 

“I am… not the elf I was when I left you, my beloved. I’m afraid… well. I’m afraid, now. Of everything. The slightest shadows make me jump, and rustles in the leaves make me break out in a cold sweat. I’m a coward, and just want to stay here at home with you forever. I’m sorry I’ve become so weak.”

Ethari scoffs, and raises Runaan’s head to look at him directly. “No, you are not weak. You are amazingly strong. You  _ survived.  _ You live. Despite all the odds, you came back to me. You’ve been tortured.”

Runaan lifts his head with a snap, eyes wide in fear. Did he somehow give it away?

“I can tell without you saying a single word, my heart. And you won’t need to worry about telling me. Just do it if you feel ready. But listen, my foolish, wonderful elf. You survived, where none others did. You’re alive, and back home, and safe, and you deserve all the time you need to recover.”

“My horn won’t heal, obviously. But the Dragon Queen said it’d take about a month for my arm to heal. I nearly lost it to the bindings.”

Ethari rolls his eyes. “I told you to pick less extreme methods. Maybe you’ll listen this time.” He laughs at Runaan’s nod. “But no, I’m not talking about the physical wounds.”

Runaan tilts his head. He feels like he knows where this is going. That the trauma soldiers experienced stayed with them. He shakes his head and looks into the honeyed ones he never thought he’d see again. 

“Rayla told me she visited you. That you believed me dead. I’m sorry for the anguish I caused you, Ethari.” He captures the hands still cupping his face and leans into them. 

“It was awful, Runaan. The flowers. They sank, all but hers. So the village believed her a traitor and banished her. But then, over a week ago, your flower resurfaced. It was a miracle, but there was great talk among the elders. Many were worried you had succumbed to dark magic, and had been resurrected. Possibly as a zombified warrior.”

Runaan shudders at the reminder of how close he had come. And the fear he had felt about the same thing. To imagine, that horrific idea coming true. Runaan shakes his head and closes his eyes. Ethari continues.

“The other elves were worried for their lives. If that evil mage Viren had you at his side as a dark warrior, all would have been lost. That’s why we posted guards at the gate. But I knew, you would never let that happen. I knew you would come back to me.”

Runaan feels tears threaten to fall yet again, but he’s wept so much today. He is home, he’s safe in the arms of his husband, and his body just can’t take anymore. Eyes still closed, he lets his weak body relax, falling into the warm embrace. Ethari makes a startled sound as Runaan collapses with a smile on his face, knowing his husband will catch him. Even if he’s not the same elf he was when he left, his beloved still cherishes him.

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

The sun is high in the sky when Runaan wakes again. It’s not very bright, thanks to the trees hiding the village under a heavy shadow, but he can feel the usual drain all Moonshadow elves feel during the day. His lips are chapped and dry, so he must have been out for quite some time. 

Ethari is asleep next to him. Runaan smiles and lifts his right hand to caress his husband’s face, when he finally takes in Ethari’s state. He’s still clothed, face pale and markings faint. There’s sweat on his brow, and his mouth is curved in a frown. His arms and legs are sprawled awkwardly. He certainly doesn’t look to be in a peaceful sleep. The only times Runaan has seen his beloved like this was when he was… of course. 

Runaan forces himself upright with a grimace, and gently shakes Ethari awake. 

“My golden one, wake, please. I can’t have you overworking yourself like this.”

Ethari groans, blinks, then stiffly pulls himself upright, then his eyes widen when he sees Runaan awake. 

“Oh! Runaan, you’re aware. I’m, ugh so sorry, I’ll grab you w-”

He throws himself out of their shared bed, but tips over and falls off the edge. 

“Ethari!” Runaan calls, hating himself for losing his quick reflexes. He couldn’t catch him in time. Instead, he leans over the side. “You alright, dear?”

“Y-yeah,” Ethari gasps. “I’m sorry, I’ll get you water. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

His husband flails a bit as he tries to right himself, then he stumbles and catches himself on one of the columns of their bed. 

Runaan’s heart aches to see Ethari like this. 

“Ari, please sit before you hurt yourself. You’re exhausted, my love.”

“Heh, it’s quite alright, Runaan.” The other elf tries to smile and laugh it off, but at Runaan’s concerned look, he sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. Runaan pulls himself over to him and embraces him.

“Why are you pushing yourself so hard? You’re burning up,” he remarks, hand gently brushing aside sweaty hair. 

Ethari sighs. “I just want to help you recover as quickly as possible. You’ve been through so much, it’s the least I can do. I noticed you didn’t return with your bowblade so I wanted to craft a new one for you as soon as possible. I’ve been working on it while you were out the last two- uh, while you were sleeping so it would be ready.”

Ethari blushes and pulls his head away from Runaan’s touch to look at the floor. It’s his tell, and he’s well aware Runaan’s already caught him. 

“You’ve been working while I was unconscious? I was out for two days? Oh, darling.”

Suddenly, Runaan is so, so grateful to his husband. His wonderful, silly, hardworking, never resting husband. He wraps his arm around Ethari’s shoulders and pulls him in close, burying his face in his neck.

“I absolutely love you, my darling. But please, rest. You playing full-time nurse and full-time smith will wear you out. I can handle being a mess, I’ll work through it. But seeing you like this just hurts me.”

“Well, that’s how I feel, too. I know you need to recover, but I want to help you get back to your old self as soon as possible.” Ethari speaks in a rush. “I know you hate feeling weak, which you aren’t! But, I know it’s probably killing you to be like this.”

And maybe, his old self would hate this. Runaan shudders at his husband’s words. But he doesn’t want to be his old self. He is happy to give up the assassin ways and live as a stay-at-home elf. He’s happy to take the time and heal, as long as he’s with his mate.

“I don’t want to go back to that,” Runaan admits with a whisper. He feels Ethari stiffen. “I don’t want to be an assassin anymore. I don’t want to kill, or be away from you. I want to be your trophy elf.”

The joke does the trick. Ethari bursts out with a shocked laugh, then slaps a hand over his mouth. Runaan smiles into his neck and kisses his way up his cheek, following the lovely marks under his eyes, until he can look at his husband directly. 

“I just want to stay at home with you, my love.”

But Ethari frowns. “You don’t...want to be a warrior any longer?”

Runaan tries to keep a straight face, but his body shudders without his permission. 

“I…need time. To decide. I can’t…” He struggles to get his words together, fights to get his body under control, and hates himself a little.

Warms lips capture his, and Runaan finds himself leaning into the touch. They kiss, and it makes everything a little bit better. 

Ethari is the first to pull back. “Of course, my dear, you can take all the time you need. I just feel so useless. I can’t help you heal any faster than I already am, but I can keep my mate armed. Protected. I’ve been working on some new enchantments against dark magic. Wardings and shields. Things to help prevent all of this from ever happening again.”

His mate is so determined, fierce when he gets like this. Runaan’s heart races. He loves seeing his normally shy and humble husband with that gleam in his eyes and fists clenched in anticipation of a good fight. It makes Runaan want to swoop in and kiss him over and over until they’re both breathless. But there will time for that later. First, his beloved needs to rest. 

“Ari, my love, I can’t wait to see what you’ve been up to. But first, let me help make dinner, then let’s rest.”

“But you just awoke!”

Runaan stands and tugs his husband along after him. “Yes, and I look forward to returning to bed with you. But you need food and drink, and I’m famished.”

They have a quiet meal, both so focused on the other, trying to relearn the mannerisms and habits that used to be so familiar. The way Ethari holds his fork turned around. How Runaan drinks by cupping his hand under the mug. The fact that Ethari plays idly with his hair while popping berries into his mouth. Runaan’s habit of cutting all his food into pieces before eating. Simple, little things, forgotten in their absence, but so painfully pleasing to see again.

Ethari wilts near the end of it, hunching over and weary, so Runaan quickly cleans up and helps him to bed. Ethari’s markings have gotten even paler, and it worries Runaan. They both know magic is not one of Ethari’s strengths. So why is he pushing himself to his limit?

They disrobe, Runaan finally winning and managing to lose the sling (as long as he’s careful, gods above!), and snuggle in bed, and they sigh in relief at the proximity. Runaan is normally the one holding Ethari tight in his arms as they fall asleep, but today his husband is the one that refuses to let Runaan go. Fair, Runaan, thinks, and lets himself be held. Runaan falls asleep as lips kiss his hair and horns, paying special attention to the broken one. 

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

Blessedly, it’s a peaceful sleep for the both of them. Runaan is not so naive to think all the following days will be so. He’s seen how trauma can affect soldiers even after the event, sometimes not appearing for years. He is sure sooner or later the nightmares will start, but for now his body is too exhausted to allow his mind to dream.

Ethari looks much better after the food and rest, and Runaan allows himself to relax a little. He smiles softly as he watches his husband dress as moonlight shines through the window, catching his markings and making them glow, casting them in dynamic light against the dark skin. The effect makes him nearly full moon-shadowed, and it steals Runaan’s breath. He’s so focused he doesn’t hear Ethari call to him.

“...nan? Runaan? Beloved?”

Runaan shakes himself back to the present. “Yes, sorry. What is it?”

Ethari gives a playful grin and comes stalking in close. Runaan feels a similar grin grow on his face. The two of them grew up together, regularly giving one another shit for gods know what. That playful banter still goes strong in their marriage to this day.

“What were you looking at, huh? Something catch your attention?”

“Oh no, nothing of the sort. Just admiring the moonlight.”

“Oh, just some boring ole moon light?

“Moon above, not just some boring moonlight. This is very special moonlight I’m admiring.”

Ethari’s grin turns confused. “Special moonlight? What on Terra?”

Runaan stakes close and trails fingers under Ethari’s eye markings. He lowers his voice as he whispers into his husband’s ear. “This moonlight touches my husband’s skin, catching on his markings, and makes him glow in the most enchantingly ethereal way.” Ethari shivers in his embrace, and Runaan lowers his voice even more, lips teasing his mate’s ear. 

“It’s absolutely delectable.”

“Gods, Runaan” Ethari gasps out, moaning as Runaan moves his attention from his ear to his neck, nibbling and kissing. “It really has been too long, hasn’t it? I feel like a young elf all over again.”

Runaan grins as he moves to kiss the other side on Ethari’s neck. “We were virile and energetic. All thanks to your endurance and strength, my love.”

“Ah, if I remember it was your flexibility. No way we could have pulled off half the moves we did without this gorgeous body of yours. Just the way you bend,” Ethari groans, as he leans forward and forces Runaan to arch back, supporting him with an arm. “Just look at this,” he whispers, kissing along the line of Runaan’s neck.

“Mmm,” Runaan mumbles, loving how his darling manhandles him. “No, of the two of us, blacksmith, it was your arms that did the trick.”

Runaan thrusts his hips into Ethari’s, and they both gasp. The energy in the room sizzles and the two pause, looking at one another. Are they really going to do this now?

“What do you think, my heart?” Ethari asks as he pulls Runaan upright, and runs a hand down his bare chest. “We really have been apart for so long. But our joining can wait. I’m not going anywhere.”

That earns him a kiss from Runaan, before he pulls back and looks at Ethari like he’s hung the moon.

“I’ve been dreaming of our reunion,” he says huskily. “Please, I’ve missed being in rhythm with you.”

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Just a reminder, the next chapter (chapter 3) will have smut! Please skip on to chapter 4 if you don't wish to read! :)


	3. Unity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the short smut chapter. Non-explicit, healthy, loving sex between husbands, with lots of feelings. No plot, feel free to skip!

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 

Ethari isn’t sure if what they have is typical of all Moonshadow elves, or just them. But always, their joinings bring them closer together. It helps them find their balance, their rhythm; orchestrating music together and becoming synchronized. The unity brings them peace. They find comfort in the knowing of one another physically, intimately, and mentally. Ethari likes to think of it as a rekindling of truth and trust each time. But maybe he’s just crazy.

“ _ Luna sanctus _ , you make me crazy,” he whispers aloud as they get settled on the bed. Ethari lays his husband back on the sheets. Where he’s previously focused on the new bruises, showing ribs, and atrophied muscle, now he sits back and takes in all his husband is. He’s weakened, but alive. He’s a fighter, and a survivor, and he suffered unknown horrors, and still managed to return home. He went out on an extremely dangerous mission, was captured, tortured, imprisoned, could have completely changed for the worse, and still just wanted to return home to him. By that light, the Runaan laying before him is absolutely stunning. Ethari wants to kiss all the aches and pains away, but instead, he focuses his attention on his beloved’s chest, and thighs, and holds him as he shakes and trembles under him.

The two are pretty evenly matched in strength, similar in mindset, and tend to simply follow the mood. Yet Runaan seems to prefer being the lead and taking charge, with Ethari happy to give him his way and secretly enjoying being under his control. But tonight, Ethari needs this. He needs to love and protect and pleasure and be the one to serve his beloved tonight. And Runaan needs this, too. He can see how the warrior just gives and gives, trusting and open and laid bare all for Ethari. 

No one else gets to see the dangerous warrior like this. The leader of the assassins begging under him. Ethari feels heady with the power he wields.

Normally they start soft and gentle before quickly moving to more athletic and ambitious stuff, but tonight is one of healing and connection. Where Ethari would normally fist a hand in Runaan’s hair and pull to hear pleasured moans, tonight he simply cards fingers through, mesmerized by the softness. Moments when Ethari would bite and suck, today he licks and kisses. And Runaan just falls apart under him. 

“My darling, my heart,” Ethari coaxes Runaan to answer him, the weakened elf lost in the pleasure of it all. He doesn’t answer, so Ethari tries again. “Is this okay?” he asks, kissing up Runaan’s neck.

In lieu of a response, Runaan surges up, needless of the pain, and wraps both arms around Ethari’s shoulders, clawing fingers down his back. Ethari gasps, the mixture of pain and pleasure making him dizzy, and he buries his face in Runaan’s neck. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he mutters, nipping a pointed ear. He laughs at the hiss he gets in response. “You know the rules, beloved. As much as I’m aching for this, too, I need verbal answers.”

“Yes, I’m fine you oaf, but if you don’t stop teasing me I’ll bite your ear off.”

“Oooh, feisty tonight.”

Runaan kisses him, effectively silencing him, and his hands urge Ethari to action. He returns Ethari’s hands down to where he craves him, down between his legs. Ethari pulls back from the kiss only long enough to coat his fingers before carefully tracing and pressing, before easing his way in. 

The reaction is instantaneous. Runaan arches and gasps under him. 

“I have you, my love. I’m here, just relax,” Ethari urges, and his silver warrior pants as he complies. Runaan is hot and heavy, leaking all over and making a mess of the sheets. Ethari is captivated and maneuvers down to taste and lap up the spilling drops.

_ “Di superi, _ ” he moans, resting his head on Runaan’s thigh as he fights the surge of arousal that threatens to overwhelm him.  _ “Beatus luna.”  _ He really, really wants this. It makes him nearly dizzy with want. But he needs to keep it together. Runaan’s been through so much. He lifts his head to continue, but meets narrowed emerald eyes. 

“I’m not fragile,  _ amica mea _ . Remember, I did travel back from Storm Spire on my own. I can handle a little lovemaking, my foolish one.”

Ethari chuckles as he sits up and draws fingers out and grabs ahold of himself. Leaning in for a kiss, he smiles down at his love. 

“I don’t doubt it, my dear. It’s not you I’m worried about, however. I hope I don’t embarrass myself. I haven’t sought relief since your parting.”

Runaan’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth, but Ethari swoops in to silence him again, and eases himself in. 

Their reunion is powerful. Ethari grasps one of Runaan’s hands to ground himself as he leans forward and picks up a steady pace. His mate moans and gasps, his sounds like music to Ethari's ears.

Ethari feels like he’s moved mountains by the end of it, and Runaan is near delirious as he rides the aftershocks of their lovemaking. Their bed is a mess, along with their bodies, but Ethari cleans Runaan up the best he can before pulling his beloved in close. He retrieves the sheets they kicked off and covers them both as the dawn begins to rise. 

They are now one, perfectly in sync and in balance like the cosmos above. The familiarity has been rekindled between them now, and the time lost seems less and less each moment. They will start the next day together, step in step, hand in hand.

➵➵➵➵ ✵☽✵ ➵➵➵➵ 


End file.
